


Just cuddling

by Masterofpretending



Category: Misfits (TV 2009)
Genre: Angst, Fluff, Hand Jobs, Homophobia, Homophobic Language, M/M, Mutual Pining, Unresolved Sexual Tension, they like each other but they are also dumb so they dont do shit about it, wet dreams
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-18
Updated: 2019-04-25
Packaged: 2020-01-16 03:58:28
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,915
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18513442
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Masterofpretending/pseuds/Masterofpretending
Summary: “You show up at four a.m. to cuddle?” Simon was utterly stunned and Nathan shrugged, still not meeting his eyes.“I guess you could put it like that,” he said reluctantly, then, finally looking at Simon, “Don't be weird about this Barry, it's not like I wanna shag you or anything, I just need to sleep.”





	1. Chapter 1

Nathan was acting strange, or at least stranger than what was already expected of him. He’d been nice all day, which Simon thought was an impossibility for the Irishman seeing as how he usually couldn't go five minutes without offending someone. Well, Simon reminded himself, he’d been quite rude to Kelly when they left the tattoo parlor, essentially telling her to piss off. Maybe there was hope after all.

 

“You’re so cute when you’re all quiet and lost in thought,” Nathan praised, head tilted as he studied the other man.

 

There it was again, that strange, overt… Simon tried to think of a synonym for flirting that did not imply… whatever flirting implied, but came up empty-handed. The two of them were sitting by the reeling looking down at the empty halls of the community center. They were “just having some quality bro-time”, which once again, was strange. Behind them was the depressing, run-down mattress and messy pile of clothes that Nathan called home and Simon couldn't help feeling a pang of guilt knowing Nathan had to sleep there every night while he got to return to his own warm bed at home. 

 

“Thanks, I think,” Simon mumbled and Nathan let out a light laugh, shuffling closer to Simon as he did so. 

 

“Have you always been this funny?” He pondered even though Simon had not tried to be funny at all.  _ Strange indeed.  _

 

They drank their lukewarm beer while listening to “Careless Whisper” softly playing in the background, a choice of music Simon wouldn't have guessed Nathan would go for, but didn't mind either. The curly haired teen proceeded to start telling him some (frankly worrying) story of how his mother's friend had touched him as a little boy and Simon was just about to verbalize his concern when he felt a warm hand on his legs. Suddenly Nathan was very close and it made Simon’s throat close up, his words dying out before they even had the chance to escape his mouth. And then there were lips, warm, gentle lips. Nathan’s lips. On his lips. Simon desperately pushed him away once he’d regained his motor skills and critical thinking and the other boy gave him a wounded look in return.

 

“It's okay, we don't have to fight any longer!” Nathan reassured him but Simon was already running down the stairs, at this point being sure the entire thing was either a cruel prank or the product of some of the power-bullshit they always got themselves into. 

 

“Simon, don't go!” Nathan cried behind him, “We don't have to go all the way, we can just cuddle!”

 

Simon hesitated, slowing down his pace until he wasn't moving at all, “just cuddling?” he asked. 

 

Nathan’s eyes lit up and he jumped to his feet, leaning over the railing to get a proper look at the object of his affection.

 

“Sure, if that’s what you want!” He nodded reassuringly, “We can start there and work our way up to dry humping.”

 

Simon looked at him, eyes narrowed, and turned around again. He walked away to the sound of Nathan’s desperate shouting and his own rapid thoughts trying to figure out what the hell was going on.

  
  


~~~~

  
  


_ Ok, so I loved you, big deal. _

 

_ If we'd have- That would've been the best sex you've ever had. _

 

_ Correction, that would've been the only sex you've ever had. _

  
  


Nathan stared up at the ceiling, a cigarette lazily resting between his lips, the smoke creating swirly clouds in the air. According to his barely functional flip phone, the time was almost half past three and yet he couldn't get his stupid brain to shut off. He wasn't usually the type of person to dwell on things, actually, his preferred method of dealing with anything was to internalize it and never think about it again. Would there be a day when that mindset fucked him in the ass? Most likely, but it was long until then, and he was happy letting future-Nathan deal with it.

 

He took another drag of the cigarette and closed his eyes as he exhaled. 

  
  


_ You don't know how much I've always wanted to do that. _

 

_ I can't pretend any longer. _

  
  


What did that mean anyway? Nathan pondered, annoyed at himself for not being able to let the whole thing go already. He desperately tried to push the tattoo-induced memories away and yet he couldn't help but wonder about that love spell… He knew it had made him crazy and horny but had it made him outright lie? It hadn’t felt like it in the moment. He’d really wanted to, not only shag Simon’s brains out, but also spent the rest of his gay, immortal life with him. And that’s what was fucking his brain sideways, the fear that the spell hadn't made him lie, but instead only brought forth what was already there. What if the spell worked like a strong shot of vodka, making him incredibly horny, yes, but also tearing his walls down, making all that internalized shit rise to the surface. The spell wasn't supposed to make him change the way he experienced the past, so why had he been talking about Simon like his infatuation had been there all along? As far as he knew he didn't have a crush on the weird-kid, never had. 

 

He groaned, taking a last inhale of the cig before putting it out on the cold granite floor.  _ Who cared what it all meant _ , he told himself for what felt like the tenth time that night. Tired, he reached for the white sock tucked away in the corner and hastily started unbuckling his pants.

 

_ Maybe a good wank will make me forget this whole thing ever happened _ , Nathan thought,  _ And if not, it’s still a good wank. _

 

When he, an embarrassing couple of minutes later, threw the damp sock back into the corner, all thoughts about the love spell had faded. Now the only thing he was trying to push away from his mind was the name which had, in some fucked up universal irony, rolled off his tongue as he came.

 

_ That little bastard gets under your skin, doesn't he? _

  
  


~~~

  
  


Simon thought that the whole “I briefly fell in love with you because of a magical tattoo but now I’m all good again”-thing would create an awkward tension between the two boys but it seemed to have had the opposite effect. Nathan was talking to him more and more each day and Simon found himself lingering behind in the locker room, willingly for once, seeking out the company of the other boy. They would tease each other, Nathan pushing him lightly, calling him a “sodding melon-fucker” and Simon responding with “you wish you were a melon then?”. Finally, Simon had something he could hold over Nathan’s head, something he could cut back with everytime the Irishman called him one of his absurd and oddly creative insults. And to his surprise, Nathan didn't mind his newfound confidence but instead reveled in it. The more Simon bit back the more Nathan would push.

 

It felt like the change had been gradual, like a tide, slowly but surely making the water rise. It started with that brief “So you don't love me anymore?” and after that it just became an effortless dance between the two. Nathan would even follow him home on the days when Simon’s parents worked late, the two of them staying up to watch a movie that Nathan always found a way to critique. 

 

It wasn't even planned the first time it happened. Nathan had just tagged along with Simon on his way home, passionately discussing what porn category was the best one. Apparently high produced porn with laughably bad acting was the Irishman's favourite and apparently Simon was a “sad excuse of a virgin” for not having an opinion on the matter. Suddenly they had been standing outside of Simon’s house and Simon had blurted out “You want to come inside?”, a part of him afraid that Nathan would say no and another part of him even more terrified that he’d say yes. Nathan ended up just shrugging, letting the other teen lead him inside to sheepishly give him a tour of the house.

 

Simons bedroom ended up being Nathan’s newest supplier for more endless teasing and Simon didn't even have the heart to pretend that he wasn't amused. He’d even make it a game to anticipate the next thing Nathan would poke fun at, much to the other man's irritation.

 

“That's not fair,” Nathan would say, “Yer not supposed to help me bully you, that takes away all the fun!”

 

It kept on happening after that. Nathan would never outright ask to come into the house but Simon knew that he'd never decline the offer either. It made Simon confused, Nathan was usually so outspoken and yet he couldn't even properly ask if they could hang out. It always had to be an implication, a happy coincidence. Simon wondered if he was ashamed to be hanging out with a “weird-kid”, as he so graciously had been labeled, or if he was just afraid of the possible rejection. Maybe the risk of Simon saying no outweighed the possibility of him saying yes.

 

“You're getting popcorn all over my bed,” Simon mumbled but Nathan just hushed at him loudly in response.

 

They were watching “The Silence of the Lambs” and Nathan seemed, for once, invested in the plot. He said it was just because Clarice Starling was a “hot piece of ass”, to which Simon responded that he was entirely missing the underlying message of female empowerment. Once again, such a remark earned him the title of “sad virgin” and Nathan throwing a handful of popcorn his way.

 

Secretly Simon though Nathan had gotten tired pretending to dislike the movies he kept on showing him. His criticisms had notably gone tame and at times he would even visibly root for the main characters, yelling out like a football hooligan when the story got intense.

 

“Are you scared, Barry?” Nathan whispered into his ear and Simon couldn't help but shiver at the warm air tingling his skin.

 

On the computer screen Clarice was sneaking around in the room, narrowly avoiding the killer lurking in the blinding darkness. It was arguably the scariest part of the movie but Simon had seen it before and he liked to think that made him a little bit less susceptible to the creepy music and rising tension.

 

“I'm fine,” he mumbled, trying to keep his eyes on the screen, avoiding the stupid smirk he knew Nathan had plastered across his face.

 

“Really?” the curly haired boy doubted, his lips, once again, way too close to Simon's ear, “Because you look like you're about to piss yourself.” 

 

Simon glanced over at Nathan who in turn looked at him intently, having seemingly abandoned the movie entirely.

 

It was now Simons turn to smirk, “Why, do you wanna hold my hand?” 

 

The comment had the desired effect as a deep blush crept up on Nathan's face, “You are such a-” he began but stopped himself, making a pained expression, his hands clawing at his throat. Suddenly he was laying down on the bed, gasping for air and looking at Simon with pleading eyes. 

 

“What are you doing?” Simon panicked as Nathans breathing was becoming shorter by the second.

 

In desperation he heaved up the other boy’s now limp body, locked his arms around his stomach and pushed, thrusting Nathan upward. Instead of hearing a choking sound however, a burst of maniacal laughter bubbled up between the immortal boy's lips.

 

“Now look who’s in love,” he taunted and Simon gave him a hard push between his shoulder blades, letting go of his body.

 

“My sweet love, please don't die!” Nathan mocked Simon’s deep voice, taking his face between his hands like they were reenacting some cliche romance film. 

 

“That wasn't funny,” Simon grumbled but Nathan just rolled his eyes, still resting his hands on the other man's harsh jawline.

 

“Don't be so dramatic,” he grinned, “I'm immortal anyway, no need to be worried.”

 

Simon said nothing, silently turning away from Nathan and gluing his eyes to the screen in front of him.  

 

“Whatever,” he mumbled.

 

Nathan scoffed, apparently offended at the notion that Simon didn't find his fake death funny. Dramatically he let his body fall over Simon’s thighs, causing the other boy to give him a mixed look of confusion and surprise. Nathan just returned his furrowed brows with a dashing smile, letting his head rest easy in Simon’s lap. 

 

“Are you gonna be grumpy forever?” He inquired, “Because I’ll take that as a challenge.”

 

Simon was still looking away, biting his lip in a way which made Nathan suspect he was holding back a smile. 

 

“And you know I don’t have any limitations of what I might do.” He continued, and when Simon finally looked his way he winked shamelessly at him.

 

“I just… ” the shorter boy mumbled, avoiding Nathan’s eyes but not looking at the screen either, “I don't like it when you get hurt.”   
  


Nathan opened his mouth, then promptly closed it again, the jokes seemingly getting stuck in his throat. For once he was silent as if Simons words had punched all the air out of him, leaving him dumbstruck. 

 

After a while the boys got back to watching the movie, or at least pretending to. Simon did not comment on the fact that Nathan’s head was still resting in his lap and Nathan remained quiet as Simon’s fingers found their way to his hair, absentmindedly playing with his brown locks of hair. They sat like that for what felt like hours and as the after-credits started rolling on the screen Simon slowly looked down at the other boy, realizing that he was in deep slumber. Knowing Nathan wasn't there to see it, he let his face break out into a big, stupid grin. The way it made him feel, the other boy’s head resting against his body, was dangerous, he knew that. The way it made his heart flutter and his skin warm was a vulnerability ready to be exploited. Another way for his heart to get broken. And yet he couldn't bring himself to look away, completely mesmerized by other boy’s features as he was peacefully sleeping. His fair, soft skin, his bony chest breathing deeply, and his parted lips occasionally making snoring sounds. 

 

_ Simon was far gone and he knew it.  _

  
  


~~~

 

After that day the same thing would happen every time they watched a movie together. Nathan’s body would somehow end up attached to Simon’s before he inevitably dozed off only to wake up like none of it had even happened. It was like a nonverbal contract between the two; movies meant snuggling and snuggling meant Nathan got to sleep while Simon stroked his hair. A pretty flawless agreement, Nathan concluded, well, except for one minorly annoying detail. It seemed as if his body had grown used to Simon’s presence in a way he hadn't taken into account. Suddenly Nathan would have an increasingly hard time falling asleep on his own. He found himself looking up at the ceiling of the Community Center, sometimes a cig between his lips, thinking of Simon. If he closed his eyes he could almost feel the presence of the other man there, his arms wrapped around him and his fingers reassuringly stroking his skin. 

 

Sometimes his mental image of Simon would even go a bit further. In his mind, Simon got more daring, more wild, than he’d ever seen him in real life. Nathan pictured his hands resting on his hip bones and slowly traveling down to the waistband of his boxers. He would have a mischievous grin on his face and the outline of his length would be visible in his tight boxers. The rest of the fantasy got a bit muddled on the account that Nathan got preoccupied with his own throbbing cock in his hand, failing to push away the fantasy of Simon leaning over him, letting his mouth press warm kisses all over his skin. 

 

Another wank-sock was thrown into the corner and Nathan did his best trying not to let shame and guilt overcome him.

Completely accidental and unintentional masturbating aside, Nathan still had a major problem. He couldn't fall asleep for the life of him. Community Service had ended what felt like a lifetime ago and despite emptying the last beers in the hidden cabinet, Nathan still felt restless. He would try to think of nothing, just empty white space, his mind a blank canvas. But in the absence of his own rapid thoughts, his stupid fantasies would re-enter his consciousness, haunting him like stubborn ghosts. 

 

Nathan turned around, groaning loudly at the ridiculous codependency his body had developed with Simon of all people. Simon, the weird melonfucker. Simon, the guy who probably jerked off to the thought of lighting babies on fire. Simon with the strong jawline that would twitch in irritation as Nathan threw him another one of his biting insults. Simon who’s smile would send a swarm of bugs through his entire digestive system. Simon with the strong arms, yet gentle touch. Simon, the only person who would hold him like he was the most important thing in the world. Hold him like Nathan might break without his touch.

 

“For fuck sake,” Nathan mumbled out loud into the loneliness, sitting up on the mattress.

 

He reached out for the washed out jeans he’d jumped out of mere hours earlier and pulled them over his lanky legs. As he walked out into the cold air outside the Community Center he lit his last cigarette, hoping it would give him some symbolic strength for what he was about to do next.

  
  


~~~

  
  


Simon reluctantly opened his eyes, staring into the heavy darkness around him. He didn't have to wonder for long what woke him up as a harsh sound erupted in the room, making him flinch. Something had hit the window but Simon remained still in his bed, too frightened to move. 

 

“Wake up you twat!” Came a voice from outside and Simon sighed in relief as he recognized Nathan's Irish accent.

 

He stepped out of the bed and shivered at the cold wind stroking his skin when he opened the window. Indeed it was Nathan standing down below, his arm stretched out and in the process to throw up another rock.

 

Simon shook his head like a disapproving parent, “What are you doing here Nathan?” 

 

His brain was still half asleep and he didn't have the energy to fulfill whatever weird request the other boy was about to give him. Money for condoms and booze would have been his first guess. Some leftovers from the fridge would have been his second.

 

Nathan gave him a pleading look, “Just let me in before I freeze my nips off.”

 

Simon sighed again but hurried down the stairs, wondering how exactly the friendship between himself and the young immortal had come about. Simon was supposed to be the sensible one in the group and yet here he was, rushing to the front door at 4 o'clock for no other reason than to help Nathan Young keep his nipples intact. 

 

When Simon opened the door the other man practically ran in, hissing a string of curse words under his breath.

 

“No reasonable person should live in England,” he muttered, “It's just sadistic at this point.” 

 

Simon rolled his eyes, motioning for Nathan to take off his shoes and follow him up to his bedroom. For once Nathan compiled without making a fuss, and as soon as Simon closed the door behind them he said, “Alright, let me explain.”

 

Simon crossed his arms, giving him a doubting look.

 

“I was sleeping, well not really, but I was trying to sleep, right?” Nathan rambled looking uncharacteristically nervous in a way which Simon’s muddled brain thought was as cute as it was annoying.

 

“But I couldn't,” Nathan let his hand run through his hair, looking away from the other boy, “And I thought, you know Simon always make me fall asleep, not in a bad way just… you know. And I thought… alright, let's give it a shot.”

 

Simon stared at him, his mind slowly unraveling the other boy’s words. His eyes had started to adjust to the dim light in the room and he took a note of Nathan’s messy hair and the faint, dark circles under his eyes.

 

“You show up at 4 a.m.  _ to cuddle _ ?” Simon was utterly stunned and Nathan shrugged, still not meeting his eyes.

 

“I guess you could put it like that,” he said reluctantly, then, finally looking at Simon, “Don't be weird about this Barry, it's not like I wanna shag you or anything, I just need to sleep.”

 

Simon felt the corners of his lips twitching, “You're saying that you can't sleep without me.” He clarified.

 

“Come on, man,” Nathan groaned, burying his face in his palms, “Why do you gotta be all gay about it?”

 

Simon was fully smiling now, finding Nathan's little breakdown amusing in its own absurdity.

 

“Can’t two straight guys cuddle it up once in a while without it being a whole thing,” Nathan continued.

 

Simon hummed something back about “I never said I was straight, but alright,” before walking up to the bed. He was only wearing boxers and was starting to feel cold without the warm covers surrounding him.

 

“What was that?” Nathan asked, his voice weirdly high-pitch but Simon ignored him, falling into the bed and letting his head sink into the pillow.

 

“Come on then,” he mumbled instead, too tired to formulate himself properly.

 

He closed his eyes and listened to the sound of Nathan pulling off his jeans and t-shirt, throwing them on the floor. His face heated at the knowledge that the other boy was wearing just as little clothing as himself, his pale skin exposed to the darkness,  _ exposed to him. _ He felt a body pressing up against his own, tugging at the covers and leaving his thigh vulnerable to the cold air in the room. He moved back to regain some of the warmth and felt Nathans breath on his neck.

 

“Stop moving,” Nathan huffed and Simon smiled lazily, turning around to face the other boy.

 

Nathan’s eyes were closed but Simon knew he wasn't sleeping yet. His breathing was too rapid and he wasn't doing obnoxious, yet somehow adorable, smacking sounds with his mouth.

 

“Can you…” The curly haired boy whispered and Simon flinched, feeling as if he'd just been caught staring.

 

“Can you do that thing you always do?”

 

Simon didn't understand what he meant at first but when he did, he nodded, feeling his ears going slightly warm. He brought up one of his hands to Nathans curly hair and the other boy let out a shaky breath as he felt gentle fingers against his scalp. Simon let his hand slowly brush through the other boy’s hair until he heard light snoring, the reassurance that Nathan finally had fallen into the slumber he so desperately had craved for.

  
  


~~~

  
  


When he woke up, Nathan had never felt more well-rested. It was as if he’d spent the weekend in some luxury spa, getting every limb slowly stretched out and twisted. He supposed this was what naturally happened when you didn't sleep on a paper thin mattress in the middle of the concrete floor. Simons bed was practically made of clouds and unicorn-fluff compared to his own and  _ God _ , he could get used to this. He glanced over at the other man sleeping beside him. Simon’s hair was still pulled down, covering a larger part of his forehead, but it wasn't neatly combed like it usually was. It was tousled, and messy, and Nathan found himself rather enjoying the sight of it. It was a strong contrast to the more uptight and stiff figure he’d gotten used to. Sure, Simon had, thanks to Nathan of course, loosened up a bit, even telling the occasional joke, but he was still a control-freak at heart.

 

Nathan wondered what he was dreaming about, if he was dreaming at all. Perhaps, in his mind, Simon was far away. Maybe in an alien strip club somewhere, getting pissed on by a green colored, three-boobed E.T. Or maybe he was overseas, in the middle of delivering a heartfelt Oscars acceptance speech for one of his creepy little short films. 

 

_ Maybe he’s dreaming of me _ . 

 

The thought made his heart flutter and he took the pillow,  _ Simon’s pillow _ , and pressed it hard against his own face. He wanted to escape from the shame accompanied by the horrid realization that had just hit him. When he further realized that the pillow smelled of Simon, Nathan couldn't take it any longer. He threw it away, the muffled sound as it hit the floor making Simon turn, placing an arm around Nathan’s chest as he did so. The loud drumming of his heart was now impossible to ignore and he cursed his own pathetic helplessness.

 

_ Nathan was far gone and he knew it. _

  
  



	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Okay so this is suddenly turing into a multi-chapter thingy but I dont think im complaining.

“Please, Nathan, I need to.. you need to.”

 

Simon whimpered as the grip around his hardening cock tightened. Nathan was wearing a smug grin on his face, knowing exactly what he was doing to the other man. How he was making him come undone one agonizing pull at a time.

 

“Are you gonna beg for it?” he teased, “Because I think I’d like that.”

 

Simon moaned, the sound earning him another painfully slow stroke. Nathan shifted his gaze from Simon’s lips to his now leaking cock, looking at it like it was a goddamn buffet. Simon silently wished he would stop smirking at him like that and instead put those pretty pink lips on his head, let his tongue have a taste of him.

 

“I enjoy seeing you like this,” Nathan breathed, “all hot and bothered and helpless.”

 

“Please,” Simon said, his voice low,  _ a warning _ , “I don't know how long I can last like this.”

 

But Nathan just ignored him, absentmindedly glancing down at his dick again. Another moan escaped Simon’s lips as the other man finally touched him, his slim fingers working up and down Simon’s shaft. His muscles involuntarily flexed, his painfully hard dick thrusting into Nathan’s hand. Somewhere deep within his bones, Simon could feel himself working up to an orgasm, the sudden sensation of Nathan rubbing him up and down being overwhelming in the loveliest way possible.

 

“If you stop I will,  _ ah _ ,” Simon whimpered, hitching his breath as Nathan suddenly fastened the pace, probably to shut him up.

 

It was too much. Nathan’s hand faster and faster and Simon losing himself in each stroke. A stinging, electric warmth erupted in his body, making every hair on his skin stand up straight and his hips buckle violently upwards. 

 

He wanted to say his name, wanted to scream it over and over again until it was the only word he knew how to say.  _ Nathan, Nathan, Nathan. _ As a pained moan escaped his lips, that’s what he held on to. _ Nathan. _

 

His head flung up towards the sky and his cold blue eyes rolled back in pleasure. He grasped a hold of Nathan’s bare shoulder as his muscles clenched tight, his body going stiff as he shivered through the pumping orgasm.

 

_ Nathan, Nathan, Nathan. _

 

“Are you having a nightmare, Barry?” 

 

_ Barry?  _

 

In the midst of his blood returning to his brain and his breathing going back to normal, Simon felt confused. Nathan voice felt so far away from the hushed murmurs and teasing whispers that had been uttered between kisses mere minutes ago. 

 

“Jesus, you're shaking,” he felt a foreign hand on his shoulder and the image of Nathan,  _ his perfect lovely Nathan _ ,  started fading away, gone with the darkness now surrounding him, 

 

“Come on, wake up mate.”

 

Simon reluctantly opened his eyes, knowing the second he did so that it was a mistake. He was met with the sight of a new Nathan, the real Nathan.  A Nathan that wasn't holding his aching cock in the palm of his hand and a Nathan who wore an expression bordering on worried. 

 

_ Hold on, worried? If the other man was worried about Simon, the weirdo, the melon-fucker, then perhaps he wasn't the real Nathan Young after all.  _

 

“I’m sorry I woke you up,” Nathan said and there it was again,  _ worry _ .  He was bare-chested, Simon noted, and he had to physically force his eyes away in order to avoid getting caught looking shamelessly at his gray briefs casually hanging off his hips like he didn't look like a goddamn Calvin Klein model.

 

“You were making these crying sounds in your sleep...”

 

“Yeah, I wasn't feeling well,” Simon lied, shifting awkwardly in his sticky underwear, “I was having a nightmare.”

 

He hoped that the hair sticking to his damp forehead and his dark, blown out eyes weren't a dead give away. He hoped that for once in his life Nathan would be naive and unknowing. That he’d let this be, wouldn't ask any questions. 

 

“Um, I need to,” Simon fumbled, “I need to use the loo.”

 

Nathan furrowed his brows but nodded, and if he, by some unholy curse, noticed the stain on the front of Simons underwear as he passes by, he didn't comment on it. 

  
  


~~~

  
  


It had been three days since Simon had last asked him to hang out. Three days since Nathan had been introduced to another “essential piece of film history”. Three days since they've spent the night together and subsequently three days since he'd slept properly. He kind of hated Simon for having broken their unspoken agreement, the routine they’ve spent weeks upholding, their silent promise held together by gentle touches and hushed voices in the comfort of the night. 

 

He hated Simon, but he hated himself even more for just letting it happen. 

 

“Do you think he’s murdered someone again?” he asked Curtis who only gave him a stupid look in return. Like he didn't know exactly who Nathan was talking about. Like Simon wasn't the only thing that had been on his mind ever since the tattoo incident. Perhaps even longer than that, who knew at this point.

 

“The melon-fucker,” Nathan clarified in an irritated huff, “he’s acting like I raped his dog or something, won't even look at me, the prick.”

 

“Is that so?” Curtis said and there was almost a teasing edge in his voice, like Nathan was missing some hilarious inside joke, “Well, did you rape his dog?”

 

Nathan huffed again, placing the small plastic football in the middle of the green-painted field, “we only made out a bit, I don't get what his all cross for.”

 

Curtis let out something between a disgusted groan and a giggle, “you’re sick,” he said.

 

They played in silence for a while, the ball shooting back and forth on the board until it finally landed in one of the goals, having Nathan shouting out in victory. Curtis rolled his eyes in response, picking up the ball from the hole on his end of the field.

 

“Can't you just talk to him,” Curtis said and it was obvious that they were talking about Simon again, ”aren’t the two of you… you know.”

 

Nathans brows furrowed involuntary because he did not in fact “ _ know _ ”. Whatever Curtis was hinting at was lost on him and it made him even more frustrated.

 

“No I can't just talk to him,” he mocked because honestly, what kind of wannabe therapist advice was that, “he's ignoring me, that's the entire problem. I can't just scream at him until he notices me again.”

 

“Why not?” Curtis shrugged, the little ball resting in his clenched fist, “It's what you usually do.”

 

Nathan was about to shoot back with something brilliantly insulting when he realized that Curtis was right for once. Getting attention was what he was best at, and damn if Simon of all people was gonna take that away from him.

  
  


~~~

  
  


Simon thought that the bathroom would be the one place where he could be safe and uninterrupted. Away from Nathan's angry, disappointed glances and away from all the things that reminded him of what a shitty friend he was. Reminding him of his own pathetic longing. 

 

“ Oi, Simon. We need to talk, yeah?” 

 

Kelly shouldn't even be in the men's bathroom and Alisha tagging along behind her felt even more wrong. He felt invaded even though he had no idea what the girls even wanted to talk about.

 

“Okay,” he said stiffly, taking the last paper left to wipe off his washed hands with. 

 

“You need to fix whatevah happened between you and Nathan cus it's drivin’ me mental.” Kelly explained.

 

Simon glanced away, groaning inwardly at the fact that he didn't have more control over his invisibility. He wanted to evaporate before their very eyes, leaving the conversation as abruptly as they’d entered the bathroom, but as usual, he had no such luck. Unfortunately only granted him invisibility when he had the least need for it. Only making him disappear when everyone were already looking away. Like a sad excuse of a magic trick.

 

“I don't know what you're asking me,” he mumbled, crumbling up the paper in his hand into a tight ball. 

 

“Oh, don’t play that,” Alisha piped up, “ain't the two of you messing around or something?” 

 

Simon was just about to interject when Kelly interrupted him, “I don't care if ya just shagging or if it's somethin’ else..” she trailed off, her eyes unsure as she was looking him up and down’ “I just need you to get him to shot up.”

 

“I'm not sure I-”

 

“Its all the focking time,” Kelly groaned, interrupting him again, “Simon this, Simon that.” 

 

“Why is Simon ignoring me, I hate him, why can't he just untwist his panties and talk to me again,” Kelly’s voice was high-pitch and Simon thought it made the mock version of Nathan sound like a girl.

 

“Look,” he said firmly because obviously there had been some major misunderstanding here, “me and Nathan are not… like that, we're not-”

 

“Shagging each other's brains out,” Alisha finished for him. 

 

“ _ That _ ,” Simon confirmed,“ I don't know what made you think…. we're just friends, really.”

 

He threw the paper-ball against the bin but missed by an inch, the soggy paper getting stuck between the edge of the bin and the wall. 

 

“Mm-hm,” Kelly doubted, eying him suspiciously, “so he's just been sleeping at ya house every night as a friend then?”

 

Simon hoped the girls wouldn’t take his silence as confirmation but rather as shook, disgust even. He should have known that people would be catching onto Nathan and Simon sooner or later. The two of them arriving together at Community Service in the morning, Nathan’s stuff slowly disappearing from the building only to end up at his house. His toothbrush by the sink and his porn magazine, the only piece of literature that he owned, carefully tucked below his pillow. 

 

“I guess you lot just share clothes as friends too?” Alisha snickered and Simon wondered what she was even doing here. If she was just bored, tagging along Kelly in absence of anything better to do or if she was following the scent of drama like some sort of gossip-trained dog. 

 

“I’ve been letting him stay at my house,” he explained, his words turning firmer along with his irritation, “it felt weird letting him stay at the center.”

 

“Oh,” Alisha said, sounding disappointed at not getting her perfectly scandalous story; two ex-criminals, boys nonetheless, getting it on behind everyone’s backs. 

 

Kelly furrowed her brows, “Well, like I said, dosen’ mattah’,” she shrugged, “he’s still buggin’ the shit out of me with his focking self-pity.”

 

Simon sighed, wishing once again he could be anywhere but here, “I’m sorry but I can’t do anything-”

 

“Please,” Kelly said and she looked so small, so vulnerable, that Simon couldn’t do anything else but give her a reassuring pat on the back, promising her he would talk to Nathan. He wasn't sure if he was lying but either way, Kelly accepted his words with a soft, loving punch to the arm.

 

She left the bathroom with a grateful smile on her face while Alisha lingered behind, shifting by the doorframe. 

 

“Are you sure the two of you aren’t…” she asked when she heard the door closing behind them and Simon thought she didn’t look as intimidating anymore, preferring her uncertainty over her unshaken self-assuredness. 

 

“He doesn't even like me,” Simon said and the implication, the “ _ he doesn't like me back _ ”, hanged uncomfortably in the air. 

 

“Wait, so you-”

 

“Just leave it be Alisha,” Simon interrupted, fearing whatever question was resting at the tip of her tongue. 

 

Alisha was quiet, her brown eyes studying Simon like maybe he’d give her all his secrets if she just stared hard enough. She looked… Simon couldn’t place it, but it felt like a mix of sadness, pity and perhaps even guilt. She wore the expression awkwardly but at least Simon didn't feel as uneasy as when Nathan had been concerned after he woke up from that dream. That had truly been… something. It had been like if the cheese you put on your sandwich every morning suddenly turned into mayonnaise. Not bad necessarily, just weird. 

 

“I’m sorry if I’ve ever been a bitch to you,” Alisha said and Simon flinched, not expecting her voice to waver in the way it did, ”I didn’t know, all those times I joked around, I didn’t realize that you were…”

 

Simon didn’t quite understand what she meant at first but then memories of her mockeries and insults found their way into his mind. None of her harsh words had ever been directed at him specifically, but they might as well have been. Labeling the boys who weren’t as quick to fall for her plum lips and puffed out chest “bloody faggots anyway”, rolling her eyes as they were asked to help out at some Lgbt-fundraiser, texting her friends as heartfelt speeches were held, not bothering to spare a second of her attention to anything but herself. He shouldn't have been surprised, she was so used to being blind to anyone but herself, but it still hurt. Every time she sighed dismissively or let out another petty insult, a part of him couldn't help but feel like it was personal. Like it was him she was mocking.

 

”I didn’t know, you didn’t tell us,” she said and Simon grew angry again, the accusation in her tone feeling like a dagger to the side. 

 

”You didn’t ask,” he shot back, his words draped in poison and bitterness. 

 

”What did you want me to say Alisha?” he continued, enjoying the way she was crumbling before him, looking just as small as he’d felt all those time she’d spit out another snide remark, ”Please don’t be homophobic when I’m around, it hurts my gay feelings.”

 

”You don’t have to be such a prick about it,” she said defensively, ”I wouldn’t have said all those things if you’d just-”

 

”Maybe you shouldn’t have said them at all!” 

 

Alisha almost looked scared at Simon’s sudden outburst, but he didn’t care. He didn't realize he’d been waiting for a moment to let it all out, to call her out on all the bullshit she’d been getting away with since the first day they met. He almost felt pride standing up for himself. A pride that was soon replaced by nausea as he saw the girl’s face twist in pain, her bottom lip trembling like a child who’d hurt their knee riding the bike for the first time.  

 

As much as he cursed the dream, hated it even, he wished nothing more than to be there again. Back where everything was easy and no harsh words would be uttered. Back were his body felt light and his muscles unclenched, no stress or anxiety in sight. Back where he had Nathan smiling at him, touching him like he meant the world. 

 

”I said I was sorry!” Alisha desperately yelled behind him as he promptly stepped outside of the bathroom, taking pointed and hard steps away from her, escaping her lies. Her guilt. His shame. 

  
  


~~~

  
  


Nathan’s hands were sore as he lifted the last box, placing it at the top of the great tower he’d built up. He looked around in case any of his fellow ex-criminals would be so kind as to offer him their applause and praise but hey didn’t. Curtis was just about to finish up his own pile of boxes while Alisha was sulking in the corner, violently texting one of her countless friends that Nathan never remembered the names of. Kelly swore loudly as she dropped a box on her foot, the books that were being shipped out to the local library spilling out on the floor. Simon who was done with his own pile observed the mess and promptly walked up to help Kelly pick up the books, replacing them neatly into the box. The polite smile on his face stung bitterly. It hadn’t been too long since Nathan had been the reason for those smiles and he almost felt jealous at Kelly for somehow getting him to give her anything else but a quick glance. 

 

He sighed, trying to remember Curtis’s words. ” _ Can’t you just talk to him _ ?”, or maybe, ” _ Just annoy him until he likes you again, that's what you do best anyway _ ”. Nathan settled for the latter, strutting away towards Simon’s boxes like a man on a mission. In his assistance of Kelly, he’d foolishly left his own pile of books unattended, something which Nathan would be quick to exploit. He sat down cross-legged on the floor, picking a book out on random to read out loud from. 

 

” _ I shall never forget watching him from my table as he climbed the small ladder wearing his red bathing trunks, taking forever to pick the ripest apricots _ ”

 

Curtis glared at him, any empathy he’d shown in the morning gone with the rising of the sun. 

 

”Okay, pretty tame so far,” Nathan complained, ignoring the annoyance of the others and looking over the page aimlessly, ” _ on his way to the kitchen — wicker basket, espadrilles, billowy shirt, suntan lotion, and all — he threw me a very large one, saying, ‘Yours’.” _

 

”We're not supposed to read the books,” Simon scolded behind him, trying to snatch the book out of his hands.

 

Nathan stood up, continuing to read like Simon was just a mere inconvenience to his grander quest as a storyteller.

 

” _ Of course, he had no idea what I’d been thinking minutes earlier, but  _ _ he firm, rounded cheeks of the apricot reminded me of how his body had stretched across the boughs of the tree with his tight, rounded ass echoing the color and the shape of the fruit,”  _ Nathan read gleefully, the increased raunchiness of the text earning him just the gasps and open wide looks he’d been wanting all along. 

 

“ _ Touching the apricot was like touching _ -”

 

”Stop it,” Simon objected and his tone of voice would usually have made Nathan stop, realizing he was crossing a line, but not today. Today he was starved for any attention Simon was willing to give him, good or bad. 

 

”What’s the matter, Barry?” He mocked, ”I would have expected you to like this kind of stuff, I’m pretty sure he’s about to fuck that peach, this should be right up your alley.”

 

”Shut up,” Simon hissed, staring down at the floor, seemingly a second away from breaking. 

 

“Is it because they're two men,” he conspired, “making you hard, is it?”

 

“Nathan-” Kelly warned but he barely heard her, being too preoccupied with drowning in Simons killing gaze. His hands were turned into hard fists and Nathan wondered if he wanted to hit him; punch him until he was bloody and bruised and couldn't utter another word to mock him. Nathan wondered if some sick part of him wanted him to. 

 

”Am I sensing a bit of denial here?” He pressed, observing how the other man’s face was going from furiously red to sickly pale, ”Don’t worry, we already know you’re a melon-fucker so your homosexuality isn’t as bad in comparison.”

 

Simon opened his mouth like he was about to say something. Curse him out, scream and shout like there was no tomorrow. But instead he just promptly closed it again, biting down on his lip as if to force the words to stay trapped in his closed mouth. He was silent as he walked away from them and Nathan listened to his steps echoing in the hallway, becoming fainter and fainter. 

 

”Wanker!” 

 

The hardcover hit his head with a soft ” _ hmfp _ ” and the pain forced him to tear his eyes away from the spot where Simon had stood only seconds earlier.

 

”What was that for?!” He yelled, turning around and facing Alisha’s biting expression. Her eyes were round and shining with wetness and Nathan wondered just when everything had gone completely to shit. When did everyone turn into such emotional babies?

 

”You can’t talk to him like that,” she said earnestly and Nathan’s brows furrowed, not expecting anyone other than Kelly to stick up for the weird kid. 

 

”What?” he snarled, suddenly feeling defensive and exposed, ”It’s not like you talk to him much differently.”

 

”That is when you actually acknowledge his existence,” he added and Alisha looked away, like the words had physically burnt her skin. For a second he thought she was going to break into tears but she blinked them away, face filled with stern determination as she turned to him again.

 

”It’s not gonna be like that anymore.”

  
  


~~~

  
  


Simon had managed to stay out of Nathan’s way until Shaun all excused them, making the decision that ending short of thirty minutes earlier was alright as long as it meant he didn't have to see the rest of the ASBOs that day. He informed them that he was on a dinner date with his girlfriend that evening and that he wanted to be in a good mood. Apparently, the group stood in the way of his happiness, hence the quitting work early. In some ways Simon envied him. Shaun was arguably a complete prick and yet he’d managed to found someone who cared for him, someone who presumably didn’t spend every waking hour trying to come up with new ways to humiliate him. 

 

The clock was almost half past three and yet sleep had escaped him. His room felt cold and empty and Simon tried to push away the nagging thought that perhaps it wouldn’t be, would Nathan be pressed against him under the covers. He missed their not-so-secret sleepovers and he missed petting the other boy's hair and studying his mesmerizing features as he slowly dozed off in Simon's arms. He missed Nathan’s late night mumblings about things so strange Simon couldn’t have made them up even if he tried.  _ He missed not being alone.  _

 

Simon sat up to turn his pillow around, desperately hoping the cooler side would head-start his body into sleeping mode. When it didn’t, he instead sat up, his feet resting against the wooden floor tiles. He picked up the outfit he’d already prepared for the coming day; a pair of dark jeans and a brown sweater. When he passed the hallway he snatched his denim jacket with him before stepping out into the fresh, cold air of the night. 

 

He started walking without direction, passing familiar streets of well-kept, neatly painted, houses. As he looked up at the moon, the same bright light him and Nathan would whisper their secrets to, he couldn’t help but drift back to a time of naked skin and hushed kisses, a dream cursed in how real it felt. He’d known since the first night Nathan fell asleep in his arms that this was it for him. He was gone, stupidly in love despite all his best efforts not to be. Nathan had ruined him in the best way possible and he’d let it all happen without even batting an eye. He’d known since the first night that he was lost, but it hadn't been until the dream that he truly realized he could never go back. He would never be able to look at Nathan again without wishing they could go back, the two of them off somewhere where nothing could bother them, their embrace being the only thing that mattered. 

 

_ I wish I’d never fallen asleep that night.  _

 

A rock peacefully laying on the ground found itself the victim of Simon’s anger as he knocked it over with his sneaker, making it land on the ground with a hard sound that echoed in the stillness of the night. If Simon had not fallen asleep that night he could have still lived in some faint wail of denial. Pretending that he didn’t want his cock in Nathan’s mouth, their naked bodies pressed tightly together as they whispered sweet nothings into the darkness. But maybe that was okay, Simon thought, people lived with their hearts broken everyday, right? And it wasn't as if it was the first time someone had failed to reciprocate his feelings. He remembered a look of shock on Matt’s face when he’d stuttered out the words. He remembered the boot to his ribs even better. 

 

He wouldn't be as stupid this time, years of torment and a nearly burnt down house had taught him that. He’d keep his mouth shut this time, appreciating the friendship he had instead of finding ways to ruin it. This was his second chance. 

 

_ As much as it hurts, I’d rather have Nathan as a friend than not have him at all.  _

 

_ But oh, how it hurt. _

 

He sighed, turning around to head back home. He hoped getting a midnight walk might have drained some of the restless energy out of him, letting his body pass out from exhaustion if it refused to peacefully drift off like it normally did. As he walked closer to the house he could hear the familiar sound of stone hitting glass. There was an initial fear shivering through his body until he caught a glimpse of a lanky boy standing below his window, another stone in his palm ready to be thrown against his window. 

  
  


~~~

  
  


“Couldn’t fall asleep either?”

 

Nathan spun around, sheepishly hiding the stone behind his back. He’d been out shouting and throwing rocks for longer than he would ever care to admit and yet when Simon was suddenly standing there, a faint smile on his lips, he forgot everything he’d planned to say.  

 

“Barry!” he greeted, dropping the stone in his hand discreetly to the ground, “funny seeing you here.”

 

“This is my house.”

 

Nathan looked up at the house, a deep furrow between his brows, “well, what do you know, small world.”

 

Simon just “mm hm” as an answer and Nathan was thrown off by the lack of anger on his face. He’d gotten used to Simon spending the past three days doing anything in his power not to meet his gaze but now it felt just like before. Simons eyes steady on his, easy as the wind and gray as the pavement below. 

 

“Look,” Nathan said, his voice suddenly sounding embarrassingly serious, and he immediately wanted to shut up again, “I’m sorry for whatever I did to make you so pissy before and I’m sorry for all that shit today…  not my finest moment.”

 

Simon looked down, tearing his eyes away from Nathan’s and sighed deeply. Nathan didn't know if it meant he was tired of Nathan or of himself but at least he wasn't angry anymore. At least they were talking. 

 

“You gotta understand Barry,” he continued, a forced lightness to his tone, “I’m like seriously underdeveloped when it comes to all that emotional crap. If I do anything that offends you, you gotta tell me.”

 

“You call me a melon-fucker practically every day,” Simon reminded him, “I’m pretty sure that if I had to tell you every time you were being offensive, we’d have nothing left to talk about.”

 

Nathan rolled his eyes, secretly relaxing at Simon’s sarcasm, “that's just some loving name-calling, it’s all in good spirit,” he explained with a cheeky grin, “if you get offended to the point of ignoring me for a solid three days, that's when you tell me, okay?”

 

“Okay,” Simon agreed, his eyes still resting on the ground below, “and I’m sorry too.”

 

“You are?” Nathan questioned and Simon looked up to meet his surprised expression with a small, reassuring smile. 

 

“I am,” he repeated, a cloud of white smoke escaping his lips as he spoke, only to be dissolved in the cold air cruelly surrounding them, “I’ve been a bit of a prick.”

 

Nathan’s heart jumped at that because as much as he liked to pretend that he was infallible, really, he always carried a looming suspicion that everything was his fault. As much shit as the universe continued to put him through, the thought that he deserved it was always in the back of his mind. 

 

He stretched out his arm, holding his palm open for Simon to take it, “friends?” he asked, but the word felt wrong, like a lie. 

 

Nevertheless a calm drowned him as Simon took his hand, shaking it. 

 

“Friends,” he agreed. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay okay, I hope yall enjoyed it despite my very not-so-practiced smut writing and the heavy dose of angst that I really dont know where it came from. I'm not 100% sure of where to take this thing so suggestions / ideas / inspiration / general comments are deeply appreciated! Thank you for reading <33
> 
> P.s. The person who knows the book Nathan was reading out of gets a golden star form me ;)


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